


The Ghosts of Our Past

by soldier_of_ice



Series: Evanescence - Draco Malfoy [1]
Category: Draco Malfoy - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Darkness, Death, Death Eaters, Depression, F/M, Fear, Grief, Guilt, Hogwarts, Insanity, Magic, Maybe - Freeform, Pain, Songfic, Torture, Witches, Wizards, i don't know your level of fangirl/fanboy emotions, i'll make a male version i promise, i'm really not sure why i did, possible self-harm, sorry - Freeform, sorry about not being gender neutral though, this is very painful, why did i even write this, you'll probably need tissues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldier_of_ice/pseuds/soldier_of_ice
Summary: *FEMALE READER VERSION. MALE VERSION WILL BE UP SHORTLY*Based upon the song "You" by Keaton Henson._______________________________The world sometimes ends when you least expect it to, and no matter how hard you try, it will never be fully repaired again.





	The Ghosts of Our Past

He still saw you sometimes, stalking the halls of his manor with deadly quiet, standing in the corner of the common room of Slytherin watching him with a beckoning gaze, in his best dreams of laughter and his worst nightmares he woke from crying out your name. Nightmares that, after dragging him into his new dark reality, had silent tears running down his cheeks  as he slept erratically through the night never getting any rest no matter how much he tried, or running a hand through his hair after rushing to the bathroom to be alone and staring into his own haunted eyes. Eyes that told of past horrors, heavy guilt that seemed to crush his soul, and pain that sometimes nearly succeeded in drowning him; eyes that told of the moment he lost the center of his world, and of the days and months leading up to that moment.

He remembered everything all too clearly, a burning flame in his mind that threatened to consume what was left of his messily patched and exhausted sanity, a dark secret he knew he would carry for the rest of his days. A sacrifice that had harmed him more than saved him; a sacrifice that should have never been made; a sacrifice he spent every waking moment regretting.

But then, he tiredly reasoned with his equally exhausting and exhausted thoughts, perhaps you would be in this state now if your roles had been reversed. Or maybe, he struggled to think with what seemed like the last of his will, perhaps you wouldn’t have managed to survive at all, either killed by his fate or your own, left to wander the halls of his manor he once strode down, the classrooms he once sat beside you laughing and inconspicuously holding your hand under tables in, the Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley shops that the two of you had frequented on holidays. . . . The places that haunted him even now, places that he could only go to now if forced.

And suddenly, he saw you once more, standing by the flickering fire that barely lit up half the Slytherin common room, a silenced whisper passing your lips; a whisper that his heart, not his ears, heard.

Guilt seemed to flood him once more as he stared into your faded eyes, remembering the day he had broken your heart, albeit unintentionally.

Not that that knowledge had done either of you any good.

 

**_“if you must wait,_ **

**_wait for them here in my arms_ **

**_while i shake. . .”_ **

 

_“Draco!” You had called to him, running into the room he was pacing in, consumed by his own thoughts and pain._

_“(f/n)?” He’d looked up, startled and wide-eyed, as you flung yourself down at his feet, near-hysteria and barely able to keep yourself from sobbing. Even more alarming was the fact that you were looking as though you had to beg for your own life. He knelt beside you, taking your hands in his own, surprise flitting across his features when you almost flinched. “(f/n), darling. What’s wrong?”_

_“Draco, please — you have to help me — my parents — the Dark Lord—” You rushed out, as if afraid he would refuse to listen after your first words. “Killed — the meeting —”_

_“Shh,” he said softly, effectively quieting you. You fell silent, eyes bright with unshed tears and holding fear, a look of desperation that seemed to pierce his heart with pain. To see you so unkempt, and close to a breakdown, aroused protective, but fearful, emotions in him. “Come on, love. Stand up.” He gently but firmly tugged at your hands, as a mother might do to convince a reluctant child to stand, managing to pull you to your feet. “Now, calm down. Tell me what happened. How can I help?”_

_“Oh, Draco,” you whispered, almost trembling. “I was at the last meeting… you know, the one you couldn’t come to.”_

_He nodded, still more surprised that you had gone to it._

_“My- my parents said something that the Dark Lord didn’t take kindly to. You know how he is.” You continued, trembling more. “I thought he would kill, or at least torture, them right there.” You closed your eyes tightly, and shook your head to get the image out of your mind quickly. “Instead… he… he dismissed the meeting, and then he Vanished them and Apparated himself. I think he went to wherever he had forced them to go. . . .”_

_Draco’s eyes widened a little as the implications of your story sank in. If the Dark Lord had truly just wanted to kill them, or hurt them, he would have done it in front of everyone. In fact, he would have been delighted to, wanting to teach everyone a lesson about disagreeing with him. But to take your parents to someplace private?_

_Something far worse was most likely waiting in store for your parents._

_He completely understood your terror now, for he had been kept awake at night with the same thought recently, that something would happen and he would lose his parents for good. He tried to hide his own slight trembling from you at the thought._

_“Draco, you have to help me,” you begged, tears now streaking your face as you grabbed his arm desperately, distress evident in your voice._

_“(f/n), I can’t. You know he wouldn’t listen to me.” He breathed quietly, going to hug you comfortingly. You pulled away, but your grip on his arm only tightened as you shook your head frantically._

_“What about your parents? Bellatrix! She could talk to him — he might listen to her or your parents —”_

_“You know how he is, he wouldn’t listen to them either, darling.”_

_“Severus! You’re his favourite student, and would listen to you… the Dark Lord respects Severus, Draco! If Severus talked to him—”_

_Draco was already shaking his head, guilt and pain flooding him as you seemed to break under the weight of his words. “(f/n). . . . Even if the Dark Lord listened to Severus, whatever he had planned has most likely already been carried out… You know how quick and efficient he likes to be…”_

_You let out a strangled sob, releasing him as you sank to the floor again, curling into yourself at his feet. “No… Mother… Father…” Draco sank to the floor beside you, pulling your shaking body into himself as you clutched at him, sobbing as the truth sank in. He rubbed your back comfortingly._

_“We’ll wait here for them,” he whispered, wishing to give you something to hold onto until the truth was, at least, confirmed._

_He knew they wouldn’t come, however._

 

**_“If you must weep,_ **

**_Do it right here in my bed_ **

**_as I sleep.”_ **


End file.
